


The Deal

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, Drama, Non-Consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-19
Updated: 2005-05-19
Packaged: 2017-11-01 10:22:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/355553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the price of silence. You decide who pays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Deal

## The Deal

by Polexene

[]()

* * *

The smile on his face is by no means friendly or soothing. It's his usual "I've-got-you-right-where-I-want-you" smirk. 

"It appears your friend has gotten into a great deal of trouble." Lionel's words are cool and calculated. Suddenly he turns and a sly spark is visible in his brilliant blue eyes. "You are lovers, aren't you?" Its more a statement than a question. No point in denying. 

"I'm sorry that this has happened. You'll have a hard time of it I'm sure. It's never easy when someone you love has to be punished. And your lover will be punished...if anyone finds out about this." 

The silence is thick with meaning, with insinuation. An offer. Deals are proposed and made in that silence. 

A deep swallow. It's a small sacrifice for a loved one. Right? 

"Does anyone have to find out?" 

Well etched laugh lines, smirk lines, reveal themselves a little more. 

"No." A surprisingly rough hand strokes one soft cheek causing eyes to close in resignation. "Remove your clothes." 

Now his voice is more instructing, colder still. A small blessing as he turns away to refill his drink. When he turns again he makes a sound of approval at the naked form before him. 

A scrap of dignity is clung to in the body that trembles in a defiant stance. He stalks closer, his eyes raking over bare flesh. A warm hand is placed on one naked shoulder. 

"Good. Now kneel for me."  
A lazy stroke rewards the quiet compliance. His meaning is clear. No use in prolonging the humiliation. Trembling fingers tug down the zipper of an expensive fly, feeling every tooth give way. 

The hard and eager cock springs from its confines. Lionel's enjoyment at mastering another is plainly evident. Still shaky fingers wrap around the commanding length and start a slow torturing rhythm. When the hips begin to move with the hand, extending each stroke, the fingers tighten as well. A groan signals approval. 

Soon fingers of Lionel's hands are sliding over the nearby scalp and pull the head forward in an unmistakable command. 

A hot warm mouth obliges and takes in the tip. The tongue swirls lazily around the hot, red head, coaxing forth a preview of the conclusion. The hips rock once more, fully sheathing the cock, but before more can be done the aching member is pulled free. 

"Lie down," Lionel's rough voice instructs. 

The fear is back like a powerful wave, nearly knocking its victim into stunned compliance. 

In an instant Lionel's clothes are shed and his burning skin slips like a wave of fire over his reluctant partner. 

And then his teeth descend as he begins to nibble and bite at the vulnerable throat and jaw. The pain is not severe, just enough leave angry red marks that will linger for a while. But the mild toying is short lived as a slick finger begins to probe intimately. It hurts. Burns and invades. It's too soon when another digit joins it. The hungry mouth has moved to an ear lobe now. 

"I love how you tremble and shake for me. Do you ache for your lover this way too? Do you squirm like this with just the touch of your lovers fingers and lips?" 

The reminder of why they are there is too much and a desperate groan slips from reddened lips. 

In a moment even this small release is stolen as Lionel's lips lay claim; mouth on mouth for the first time. And with that the brave front is broken. Tears slip out and soft shaky cries escape between captured lips. 

Lionel chooses this moment to sheathe himself. In one power-filled stroke he is buried deep. He is forced to wrestle the form beneath him into submission again. It takes a moment before the two intertwined bodes are still. They lie on the expensive Persian rug breathing deeply. 

When he is satisfied that the struggles have been contained he rocks his hips. The form beneath him lies still as the dead. After a few moments Lionel grows tired of the one sidedness. 

"I have no desire to fuck a corpse." He rasps. The bruising thrust he gives as punctuation pulls his partner back to life. Back to the reality where a deal was made. 

Eyes that once stared blankly at the ceiling now slip closed and a pair of hands rest on Lionel's hips rocking him forward. Sore thighs fall further open, giving the illusion of willingness. 

"Mmmmmm good. That's better." Lionel murmurs against the other mouth. A slow pounding rhythm is established. He shifts so that he is still propped up on his elbows, but his hands are free to roam the body beneath him. His finger tips seek out two tender nipples and twist them. 

Suddenly it becomes alarmingly clear that Lionel wishes to feel his parter's climax. 

When the nipples don't evoke the desired response, Lionel takes a new plan of attack. He slips one hand down between their hot bodies to his victim's sex and begins a ruthless assault that cannot be denied. Once unwilling hips now buck upward of their own accord. A new desperation racks the body beneath him. Before long his talented fingers combined with his merciless cock, pounding home with every shuddering stroke, force climax to rip forth. He groans and gasps, muttering curses as he too shudders to completion. 

His lax body falls, burning and humming with pleasure. 

"It's ok.," he coos, wiping away fresh tears. 

"You're safe now." 


End file.
